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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26972845">i feel it in my heart tonight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadeddiva/pseuds/jadeddiva'>jadeddiva</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Discovery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Idiots in Love, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Missing Scene, michael likes to overthink things</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:07:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26972845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadeddiva/pseuds/jadeddiva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking at him, now, she wonders why she was so quick to assume - just because the man she fell in love with became someone else (literally) overnight - that there aren’t still traces of him in the man in front of her (more than she would care to admit, if she is being honest with herself but she isn’t, not always, not when it comes to him). </p>
<p>After Ash calls her from Qo'noS, Michael tries to understand her reaction to his physical changes.  Missing scene for 2x3 'Point of Light'.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Burnham/Ash Tyler | Voq</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i feel it in my heart tonight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Anyone else like to start their entry into a new fandom by writing a character-driven introspective piece and following up with masturbation? No? Just me?  </p>
<p>Anyway, Qo'noS Facetime really stuck with me because they're both such idiots still in love.  This is chapter 1 of three chapters.  Title is from Warpaint 'Undertow'.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>1.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ash has grown out his beard.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t know why it surprises her but it does, the same gut-punch of surprise that she gets when she takes in his leather Klingon armor and his hair pulled back from his face (it has grown, and she wonders how long it is, and what it looks like when </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> pulled back).  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite her reaction, none of this should be a surprise: these are all necessary changes that indicate to Michael that he has adapted into Klingon society.  It would be illogical to assume that he would still wear civilian clothes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet, looking at him and seeing him not dressed as Ash Tyler, Starfleet Lieutenant, but rather Ash Tyler as Voq, Torchbearer to the Klingon Chancellor, is, well -  it’s a lot.  All of it - all of him - serves as a brutal reminder of the time and space between them since those last moments on Qo’noS.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her heart has been racing since the notice crossed her workstation: in the long months since they parted, she thought of him daily, his absence casting a huge shadow that has become significantly less imposing as the weeks pass. In those first few weeks she oscillated between fear (the ghostlike feeling of his hands on her throat waking her up from sleep) and bone-deep sorrow that the man she loved was gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking at him, now, she wonders why she was so quick to assume - just because the man she fell in love with became someone else (literally) overnight - that there aren’t still traces of him in the man in front of her (more than she would care to admit, if she is being honest with herself but she isn’t, not always, not when it comes to him). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She used to wonder if he thought of her, but this call confirms to her that he does.  Ash has others he can call - Saru, for instance, is still the XO of Discovery, and if Ash needed to deliver a message for Starfleet command, he would be the obvious first choice.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chose her for a reason (she doesn’t dwell on it; that way lies madness).  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She takes a deep breath, presses forward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have me.  Right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a long pause, and she wonders if he’s going to try to leave again, but then he doesn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes her at her word. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Michael knows that it can’t be helpful to be a human on Qo’noS.  She assumes, correctly or not, that even if he is L’Rell’s torchbearer - if he is there to represent the successful experiment of L’Rell’s house of spies - that doesn’t mean the other houses will make it easy for him.  When he confirms that much, she can feel her stomach clench at the thought of what he must be going through, trying to fit into a culture that has rejected who he is not once but twice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Resemblances are superficial; Michael knows this all too well growing up on Vulcan.  She may have looked like the rest of her peers but she still felt the need to cover her rounded ears with her hair, and tried to avoid any fights that would cause her red blood to show.  And yet, the constant need to work her hardest, to be better than any Vulcan just because she </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>- that drive took a toll on her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She has been the odd one out; this is a burden she would willingly help him share, if he lets her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Ash, so he does, and before the transmission ends she tries to reassure him, tries to lift some of the weight he carries with her words (her fingers flex as the call ends, because she would give anything to reach out and soothe him with her touch). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ash is a tactile person, and while they were together Michael realized that she was, too.  Touch was something that her parents, and later Amanda, gave freely, but which Vulcan society (and Starfleet rules on fraternization in the chain of command) frowned upon.  But Ash was always holding her hand, or touching her face, or pressing their foreheads together, and for the first time in months Michael realizes how much she misses that now that it’s not available.  It was easy to slip back into the way she was on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shenzhou</span>
  </em>
  <span> and not make physical contact but her heart aches now when she wishes she could hold him, comfort him, press a kiss against his brow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She spends seven minutes in her quarters collecting herself before she leaves to find Saru.</span>
</p>
<p>...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The conversation with Ash, no matter how short, gives her more to think about than she would probably like.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(She wonders, not for the first time, if he is sharing L’Rell’s bed.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It is Dr. Pollard’s opinion that Tilly should be kept in sick bay overnight for observation, though Stamets argues that the only person who can truly monitor Tilly’s condition is him.  As a result, Michael arrives to find the two of them orbiting each other, throwing apprehensive glances at her before returning to what they are each doing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you feeling?” Michael asks as she approaches Tilly’s bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tilly laughs, sinking back into the pillows.  “Like I’m not actually crazy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael smiles.  “Always a positive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tilly shakes her head, frustrated.  “I don’t like thinking that there was a spore growing...something...inside of me.  I don’t want to say that it made me feel violated, but it kindof did?” Her voice raises at the end, a furrow forming between her brows.  “I want to focus on all of the cool shit that we could learn about Mai or whatever she - it - that? - was but it’s just - “</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think maybe you should rest - it’s been a long day for you.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael tries to smile reassuringly, but it feels like she’s telling the same thing to herself.  It’s been a long day.  First Amanda, then Ash, now Tilly: those she cares about the most need her, and all she needs is a moment to breathe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?” Tilly asks.  “Is something wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nothing,” Michael replies quickly - so quickly that Tilly catches it and digs in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not true.  I know you well enough to tell when something is wrong.  What is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I spoke with Ash today,” Michael says, brushing microscopic particles off Tully’s hospital bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her friend’s face lights up.  “You did? What did our Klingon emissary have to say?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite everything that she has been through today, Tilly seems beyond thrilled to hear about Ash and Michael remembers then how well they had gotten along, and how Tilly had advocated on his behalf when they stripped him of his badge.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He wanted to report some concerns about a potential uprising.  It appears that some don’t approve of L’Rell’s rise to power.  I notified Saru once the call was over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael pauses, debating internally if this is even relevant but the need to tell someone about something so trivial quickly overtakes her.  “He has a beard now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tilly frowns.  “He’s always had a beard, what’s different about this one?” she asks, confusion evident.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael tries to think about how to explain it, finally gesturing to Tilly about the length with her hand.  It seems so trivial to be gossiping about Ash’s changed appearance, not discussing concerns about L’Rell or anything else (she keeps his admission about feeling alone and lost to herself, to mull over more later).  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” she says.  “That’s what you meant.”  She smirks.  “Do you like it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t see why it would matter if I like his beard or not,” Michael points out gently and Tilly shakes her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no, it absolutely does - you wouldn’t mention it if it wasn’t something to talk about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should I tell you about his Klingon armor as well? Or that he’s grown out his hair too?” Michael asks back, and Tilly laughs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course! These things matter. As does the fact that the first thing you told me was that he had grown a beard, not just that scruff that he had earlier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I fail to see the - “</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> the beard!” She exclaims.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Across sick bay, Pollard and Stamets turn briefly towards them, and Michael feels a blush creeping up her neck at being the object of attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s different, that’s all,” Michael tries to explain.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tilly grins, wide and ridiculous, like she has caught Michael admitting to something.  “You like the beard and the hair.  Does it make him look rugged? Even more handsome?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tilly!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, Michael, objectively Ash Tyler is a good looking guy.  There’s nothing wrong with admitting that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to explain myself to you - “</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You like the beard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael sighs.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I might like the beard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she leaves sick bay, Tilly is still smiling broadly and Michael feels like she has given up some sort of secret, one that she never intended to share.  Oddly enough, it doesn’t make her feel uneasy.  Instead, she feels validated but about what, specifically, eludes her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael is grateful for the fact that Discovery has a robust water recycling system, which means that she doesn’t have to worry about the limits of her showers.  She’s always found the process relaxing, the hot steam and steady pounding of the water a counterpoint to moments of tension. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was also a novelty, growing up on Vulcan with it’s sonic showers and draconian water conservation methods, but when your planet is an arid desert, you do what you must.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Today, she indulges, pressing the outer limits of what she considers to be acceptable.  She stands under the pulsating head for a long time, letting the water run over her, her thoughts flitting from Amanda to Ash to Spock and then back to Amanda and Ash again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her family grievances are longstanding, and the guilt she carries for what she said to Spock years ago isn’t going to magically disappear overnight; her pain over Amanda thinking less of her is a different story, but Amanda has always been open and understanding.  In time, she thinks that she will be able to tell her the truth, and their disagreement will reach a satisfactory conclusion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ash, though -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ash is different.  Ash is the sharp ache of loss mixed with the frustration of whatever she still feels for him (she feels something, she doesn’t know what it is but it’s there, under all of her other feelings, and she wants so badly to understand it). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shakes her head, letting the water droplets fall from her hair, and reaches for her sponge and soap.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing Ash makes her realize how badly she misses him, and how she still likes looking at him, beard and hair and Klingon armor, and if that isn’t confusing she doesn’t know what is.  Tilly’s not wrong - he’s handsome, and knowing what he looks like under his clothes, what he feels like under her hands and how he tastes when she kisses him - </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael uses her sponge to wash down one arm before moving to the other, and in the process runs it across her chest. The sharp spike of arousal that happens as she brushes against her breast takes her by surprise, but her thoughts are still on memories of Ash (</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ash above her, hand on her breast, thumb swiping across her nipple as he lowers his head- </span>
  </em>
  <span>) and she runs the sponge back across her chest again, gasping at the spark that races through her as her nipples harden and she - </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She has taken to using the memory of her nights with Ash as fodder when she has had a long day and needs to relax.  She remembers, clearer than she would sometimes like, the feel of his mouth against her breast, the touch of his hands across her rib cage, the way he would press harder, move faster, give her more whenever she gasped and twisted her fingers in his hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wants to do that now.  She wants to weave her fingers through those long strands and yank, feel him groan against her skin, his mouth between her breasts and his body between her legs. She wants him, and hasn’t really stopped, not even after the mirror universe, not even after he left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wonders if his beard would be rough against her skin, or if it is softer than it would appear.  She wonders what it would feel like against her stomach, maybe lower (she had been shy before, afraid to cede too much control but this is her imagination; now, she pictures him on his knees in this shower stall and her hips shift forward on their own, straining towards the specter of the man she wants).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a new image, but one she likes.  She has never shared a shower with someone but the idea of being in one with Ash is too tantalizing to brush aside.  She liked touching him when they were together, the brush of her fingers against his shoulders, his biceps, his chest.  She likes the softness of his skin and the solid feel of his muscles underneath. She can see the appeal of being in tight space with him, finds the thought of being pressed close to him in the small stall heady.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tries not to overthink this - he is on Qo’noS, and he may be with someone else right now. She tries not to feel bad - he left her for his own good.  She tries to justify this as her needing a release, however ethically fraught this might be.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tries to pretend it’s just a release, everything needing to be justified but she knows the reality is this: she is still attracted to him, still wants him, just as much now as she did before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She presses herself back against the cool tile, closing her eyes.  She pretends that Ash is there, crowding her space, his hips arching towards hers and she shifts her hips again, seeking contact with a ghost. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She lets her left hand trace down her stomach, pretending it’s Ash’s hand (would they be more calloused now? Rougher than they were?) and she gasps at the sensory overload this game is giving her.  She moves her other hand upwards, as she pinches, pulls, pretends it’s Ash’s mouth against her breast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She remembers him looking up at her with those eyes, hands on her waist as she rocked against him and she pictures it now - brown eyes, hooded, closing in pleasure as his hands helped her move above him and - </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She lets her hand drift down, brush against her clit, before finding the rhythm that has always worked.  She pretends her hand is really his hand, and then his mouth, pretends that he is whispering dirty things between her legs that she can’t hear but she remembers started with </span>
  <em>
    <span>god, Michael, you’re so hot</span>
  </em>
  <span> -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the water recycling system, there is still a fifteen-minute limit and so the water shuts off as she comes, biting her lip hard to keep herself from groaning, legs buckling as she rides the waves of bliss.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She lets herself slide down the wall, heart still racing despite the bone-deep sated feeling that seems to spread throughout her body.  She remembers how he would kiss her head, her neck, as she caught her breath, would whisper promises and praise into her skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In that moment, she misses him more than she has since the moment he left, and she blinks back tears as she remembers he is gone, decided by both of them in different ways, and all the encrypted communications and peace negotiations in the world won’t bring him back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She will feel bad about this later.  She will feel guilty for imagining him doing things to her when she made it clear that doing things was not in their future.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tells herself she won’t do this again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(It is illogical to allow her imagination to run wild, but then again, logic has never been tantamount where Ash is concerned.)</span>
</p>
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